Nature of the Beast
Contorting her spine into slithering seduction,
she glides under the dim fluorescence of the flickering bulb,
an epileptic episode of indulgence before his very eyes,
a sight that leaks into the skull ever so slowly,
and drips out his salivating mouth.
Masterful in her movement, magnificent in her markings.
Milky skin with a light dusting of lacquered lily petals,
that fall glisteningly to the floor whenever she raises her arms
flawlessly flaking to each pluck of the bass guitar.
The music pulses through the veins in her eyes,
scarlet sound coursing through her reverberated body,
synced to the rhythm of his inconsistent heartbeat.
Tachycardic temptation.
Succumbing to the magnetic throng is what is shown through raised hairs.
Submitting to the legato of tensioned strings is what he's willing to do for her.
An instillment of stained spirits,
only intensifies her caramelised olfactory intrusion,
as she gently slithers past your highly strung skin.
A destabilisation of carefully wired composure
Institutionalised rationality does not follow him out the door,
into the hypnotic temperatures of January nights,
a moisture of mystery gathers under pores
persuades his abandonment of reason,
pushes his descent into the enlightenment of zemblanity.
But alas, her assimilation into fine glittering specks,
reminds him he cant spell lustrous
without lust.
Copyright © Jennifer McLaughlin | Year Posted 2025
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